( Now that's a shift that catches Esikko off guard. Even if it's Makoto playing a role, even if he's trying so hard— there's an excitement in watching flesh pull apart, at blood running out and over skin. For his part, he tries not to react too strongly, but the brightness in his eyes is only sharper, almost manic, and he doesn't wait nearly as long as he thinks he does before he steps forward. )
Is this meant to be less intimate?
( That's the question he settles on as his hands find Makoto's shoulders, his grip tight enough to make clear that even if the other wants to change his mind at this point, he won't let him now. He's been offered something appealing, and it would be too cruel to leave it as a tease. Esikko has to duck down for their height difference, and he does so now, eyes flicking up to meet Makoto's from beneath his chin. )
Let's see what counts as an object, shall we?
( He starts a little too low, just above that shirt, tongue pressing down to lick up and along the trail of blood to his target. There, at the new opening that was so kindly created for him, he doesn't hesitate to slip his tongue inside. It's not a shy press, not some hint or bluff— he hooks in deep, curling his tongue upwards in an attempt to feel and taste all that he can reach, smoothing invasively over every bit of muscle, flesh and blood that he can. )
no subject
Is this meant to be less intimate?
( That's the question he settles on as his hands find Makoto's shoulders, his grip tight enough to make clear that even if the other wants to change his mind at this point, he won't let him now. He's been offered something appealing, and it would be too cruel to leave it as a tease. Esikko has to duck down for their height difference, and he does so now, eyes flicking up to meet Makoto's from beneath his chin. )
Let's see what counts as an object, shall we?
( He starts a little too low, just above that shirt, tongue pressing down to lick up and along the trail of blood to his target. There, at the new opening that was so kindly created for him, he doesn't hesitate to slip his tongue inside. It's not a shy press, not some hint or bluff— he hooks in deep, curling his tongue upwards in an attempt to feel and taste all that he can reach, smoothing invasively over every bit of muscle, flesh and blood that he can. )